


luck is just the half of it

by alienjack



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru Are Twins, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjack/pseuds/alienjack
Summary: Makoto and Izuru have their first Valentine's Day together.(part of the "to analyze your eyes" universe, although somewhat able to be read independently. "soulmates who see color when they meet" au.)
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru, Kamukura Izuru/Naegi Makoto, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	luck is just the half of it

**Author's Note:**

> title from ['lucky people' by waterparks (yt link).](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZoKBdxhXpw)
> 
> as i write more of this universe, hopefully this won't become anachronistic!! for now, it fits with the TAYE timeline, set 10 months after they first meet.
> 
> shout-out to sierra for screaming w me about kamuegi for the past week, and shout-out to river even tho we communicate via sierra. love that all three of us share a single brain cell!

"Hajime."

Izuru's neutral tone betrays nothing, so Hajime looks up at his brother's face. There's a small slant in his eyebrows, visible enough that Hajime pauses his game and turns to face Izuru fully.

Chiaki's voice comes through the computer speakers: "Hajime?"

"One second, I'll be right back," he tells her, then puts their Discord call on mute. "What's up, Izzy?"

Izuru is quiet for several beats. Hajime waits—not particularly patiently, but he knows if Izuru is worked up enough to be frowning, then it has to be important to him. (Well, as close to "frowning" as Izuru gets. His eyebrows are scrunched just enough to wrinkle the skin above his nose.)

"Sunday," Izuru says, "is the fourteenth of February."

Hajime suddenly realizes where this is going.

"I have done too much research," Izuru continues, "to the point that I require outside perspective."

"You're asking me to help you plan what to do with Makoto for Valentine's Day?" Hajime can't help his smug tone. It's always fun when Izuru asks for help.

Izuru turns on his heel, hair swishing, and leaves Hajime's doorway, obviously insulted by Hajime’s delight.

Hajime unmutes his mic to say, "Hey, I gotta go, babe. Izzy needs help with something."

"Remind him that Makoto likes things simple," Chiaki says, her voice absent of much tone—she's focused on their game, but Hajime loves her intuition for still guessing correctly what the situation is. _ She's so smart. _

Hajime goes and knocks on Izuru's door frame; Izuru had left his bedroom door open, expecting Hajime to come apologize, Hajime guesses. He’s at his desk, carefully dismantling a ship in a bottle.

"You know that you don't have to overthink with Makoto," Hajime says, even though Izuru doesn't look up. "And you know that you know him better than anyone else."

Izuru continues pulling pieces of the ship apart. "There are too many possible variables. Three hundred varieties of roses exist, and roses are not the exclusive gift flower for the holiday, which further expands possibilities. Numbers also matter and carry different messages. Chocolate and other believed 'aphrodisiacs' are also given, the varieties of which are also large, and thus any combination of food with flowers is therefore too large of a number to truly test. Additional gifts are also traditional. I could give him a card of some sort, although—"

"Izzy," Hajime sighs. "Just buy a cute box of chocolates and, like, a teddy bear or something."

Izuru sets down the ship bottle and finally looks up, staring at the wall in front of him. "Sweet tooth. Soft things. He will likely insist on sharing, which means I must take my own tastes into account as well."

"There ya go," Hajime smiles.

Izuru nods to himself and pushes his chair from his desk. "Will you—?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take you to the mall."

ꕤꕤꕤ

“You’re sure he’ll get it?” Hina asks. “I mean, I know he’s smarter than literally anyone else in existence, but…”

Makoto holds the single red rose to his chest and smiles. “Izuru will have definitely over-thought today, though. I’m sure he’s spent way too much time researching this. Honestly, I’m a little afraid that he’ll go overboard… But I’ll be happy with whatever he comes up with, even if it ends up being nothing at all!”

“R-really?” Toko scoffs. “You w-wouldn’t be upset if y-your soulmate didn’t get you  _ a-a-anything _ for Valentine’s Day?”

“You’re the one who writes romance novels,” Makoto laughs. “I don’t really care, as long as I get to spend the day with him.”

Byakuya scoffs in clear disgust while Hina and Sayaka squeal.

“Shouldn’t we get going soon?” Kyoko reminds him.

Sunday, February fourteenth… Makoto had asked Sayaka to go with him to look at flowers, and she had then proceeded to invite most of their ‘crew.’ Makoto was mostly shocked to see that Byakuya had shown up at all; he’d never shown interest in things like this before, although Makoto has learned over the past ten months that the Togami heir is softer than he pretends to be.

Makoto and Izuru had agreed to meet at the Hinata house in the late afternoon, so the group had decided to go in the morning and then get lunch. The flower shop had been nearly cleared out, but Makoto had done his own research, too, and didn’t need much: a single red rose is exactly all he wants.

Makoto looks at his phone; sure enough, it’s hitting two o’clock, which means he definitely should be getting home and ready for his evening with Izuru. “Right!” He gets to his feet. “Thank you guys for coming with me. I really appreciate it.”

“Of  _ course!” _ Sayaka grins. “It’s your first Valentine’s Day with your soulmate!”

Yeah. Makoto has been smiling all day.

ꕤ

Izuru stares into the mirror. He has been staring into the mirror for several minutes. One’s appearance is an arbitrary thing, only significant due to overrated cultural emphasis and manipulation tactics by companies who exploit the insecurities of those susceptible to this cultural emphasis.

He pulls his hair away from his eyes. He lets it fall back over his face. He pulls it back; he lets it fall.  _ Arbitrary. _ That’s why he can’t decide--because it’s  _ arbitrary. _ His hair is too long to properly pull through a hair tie, so he’s left with either using clips and bobby pins or actually tying strands of ribbon around his hair.

He pulls his hair away from his eyes and grabs the red ribbon sitting on his counter. He ties his hair up into a half-ponytail, just the very top layer pulled back. There are no bumps, no accidental loose strands: it’s a perfect execution of the style.  _ Arbitrary. _

Just about five minutes later, there are three knocks on the front door. Izuru goes to answer it; after all this time, Makoto still knocks instead of just letting himself in.

“Hi.” Makoto grins. He’s dressed simply, just a white button-up and black bow tie, and Izuru is reminding himself it’s  _ arbitrary  _ even as he gives Makoto a once-over.

Izuru steps away from the door to let his soulmate inside. “Hello.”

Makoto returns the once-over and his expression turns soft. “You’re so beautiful.”

Izuru still doesn’t know how to take that particular compliment; it’s not about his skills, his knowledge, anything he can confirm nor deny with certainty. It’s a statement made purely of Makoto’s opinion. So when Makoto offers up a single red rose, Izuru takes it delicately, very aware that he cannot hide behind his hair, and says, “A single red rose is symbolic of love at first sight.” Based on the way Makoto lights up, Izuru has correctly guessed that Makoto had known that already.

“Yeah,” Makoto says, unbearably soft, and his eyes flicker between the rose and Izuru’s own eyes, gently guiding Izuru’s hand so that the rose is closer to his face before determining, “I think I got the red a few shades off, though.”

_ Oh.  _ Izuru does  _ not _ blush. His breathing does  _ not  _ stutter, nor does his heart rate increase to a level that could be potentially dangerous should it continue for an extended period of time. When Makoto lets go of his hand, Izuru presses the rose close to his chest and covers his face with his other hand.

“Sorry, that was pretty cheesy, huh?” Makoto laughs.

It might have been in another context, but Makoto is so  _ genuine  _ about these things that Izuru cannot agree with that statement.

“I… have gifts for you as well,” he says instead, leading the way to his room. They’ll start making dinner soon after; Izuru had decided to go simple--things like cooking tend to swing wildly between fortunate and disastrous when Makoto is around, no matter how perfect Izuru is, so pasta and chicken it is. But right now, clinging to a single red rose, Izuru needs to present his own offerings.

Makoto lights up when Izuru hands him the simple cream-colored bear, running his hands over its soft fur and squeezing it experimentally. Makoto holds it up under his chin and smiles; his eyes widen for a moment before he brings it to his face and presses his nose into it. “It smells like sugar! Hmm… Cake?”

Izuru hums an affirmation, pleased with his knowledge on what scent Makoto would best prefer. He offers up the small box of chocolates; as soon as Makoto scans the list of types on the back of the box, he predictably says, “We’re sharing these.”

“If that’s what you want,” Izuru concedes.

Makoto presses his face into the bear once more before setting his gifts on the corner of Izuru’s bed and rocking onto his toes to press a kiss on Izuru’s mouth. Izuru tilts down, hands finding Makoto’s hips as Makoto cups his jaw. When they separate, Izuru presses his forehead against Makoto’s and Makoto adjusts his hands to be more around Izuru’s neck. He starts swaying a bit, giggling, so Izuru follows his lead. There is no music except for whatever might be playing in Makoto’s head, but Izuru doesn’t find himself minding it. Several months ago, he would have struggled with something so uncoordinated and spontaneous; now, though, it feels exactly right.

“I love you,” he says.

Makoto’s smile somehow widens a bit more. “I love you, too.”


End file.
